


"Everything But The..."

by LeafThoj



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, Bottom Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Top Dean, Weekend at Castiel's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1581350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeafThoj/pseuds/LeafThoj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another universe, Castiel Novak is part of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He's currently working with the FBI agents on the same team--the Winchesters, and of course other... consultants--on searching for King of the Underground, Crowley.<br/>Today everyone has gathered at Cas' houses for a little get-together, some much needed BBQ and relaxation. Of course everyone had only one thing in mind, and that was what everyone's first experience was like--in the flavor of Ice Cream. Everyone's had their say, but what is Castiel's and most importantly... what was Dean's first like?</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Everything But The..."

"What was your first ice cream flavor?" Everyone asked him as he came back to the group with his beer in hand.

Cas just stared because, God forbid, he couldn't fathom Dean Winchester's answer. Did he get the second language? No. There was no need to ask. Dean Winchester definitely got the language, it was told so in the twinkle of his mischievous green eyes.

 _Who ever said green wasn’t a creative color?_ Cas would like to give them a piece of his mind. Maybe sit them in the interrogation room and go at them torturously and slowly until they explained their logic. Cas surely couldn’t understand how such beautiful, precious green eyes could be anything but creative and wonderful and sexy. Like they were the very work of God, the world put into Dean’s eyes.

Everyone sat waiting. Cas more nervous than the rest of the anticipating mass of bodies cluttered on his patio. In all but three seconds Cas saw the glint in Dean Winchester's eyes again. His answer was probably nothing like Castiel’s _“Everything But The…”_ flavor. Fortunately, this Winchester had been too busy with the steaks to have overheard his answer through all the jabbering laughter and jokes howled by their friends and family.

Sam, Dean’s brother four years his junior, sat together with Castiel’s older stepbrother Gabriel. Gabe, being one of the oldest here and yet looking nothing like the oldest smiled cheekily. Charlie Bradbury cuddled closely to the more or less _straight_ Jo sitting next to Cas. Ellen a seat down from him just smiled at the way her daughter was dealing with a lesbian cuddling up to her. She used to laugh at Dean for being mistaken as Sam’s ‘partner’.

Frank and John Winchester were inside going over some tracking system on Crowley. Those two didn’t know when to stop and relax.

“So?” Jo was the first to urge Dean. She used to and probably still does have an attraction to him. Cas wasn’t too sure anymore, since his people skills weren’t exactly up to par. Or existing. It was what made him a good “bad cop” in the interrogation room, apparently.

“Wait,” Dean looked at them all suspiciously. He was handling it calmly, since showing any other expression was ground to be made fun of in this group. Castiel swallowed, hoping it wasn’t as loud as it sounded. “What was everyone else’s?” he asked waving to the group with his beer as a pointer.

“Of course I’m _Everything But The_ …” Gabriel started but Sam coughed, sparing a glance to nowhere in particular. He adjusted in his seat, leaning away from Gabriel. “What?” his brother asked shamelessly. He dramatically rolled his eyes, “We already went through this.”

Castiel suppressed the urge to groan. _Yes we had._ He was the one that excitedly shared first. Needless to say, where Castiel felt weariness and nothing happy about his flavor, of the same Gabriel was extremely proud.

Ellen answered once again, “Strawberry swirl.”

Dean nodded, going, “Aah, a little something-something now and then, eh,” with that wink and smirk of his. He seemed was very proud that Ellen had answered thus.

Jo cleared her throat, obviously skipping over Castiel the second Dean’s eyes laid on him. She smiled as she answered strongly, “Rocky Road.” Her gaze on Dean, as she was the youngest, dared him to challenge her answer.

Dean’s reaction was raising a piqued brow at the younger woman. Much younger. A part of Castiel pulled at noticing the reaction. He’d known for the last couple years that there was tension between them. Sexual tension, and there was a lot to like about Jo so Cas wasn’t all too surprised Dean appreciated her interest in him. Still, Cas had hoped that despite what he heard in the office that Jo had moved on from trying to catch Dean’s attentions. She was way too young to even apply for the agency, but she was often in the building because of her many encounters against Crowley’s men. Not to mention her mother, Ellen was a senior agent.

Charlie just smiled when everyone turned to her, and Dean rolled his eyes. He was obviously too used with their computer nerd Charlie—popular in her own right. Which of them had the most enthusiasm on girls, Castiel would never be able to tell. In more ways than one Charlie was the sister Dean had never wanted, and the skirt-chasing wingman Dean had always required. They were two peas in a pod, even if Dean tried to deny it.

“Chocolate,” she finally said perkily. Dean just nodded and turned towards Sam to his left, the circle having gone full round albeit Cas’ answer excluded.

“I said Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough,” Sam said quickly, and hurriedly gazed the other way from Dean. Everyone knew it was a bit hard for Sam to mention Jessica, but she had a place in his heart that would never go away. And that was okay. Cas understood that feeling. In fact he knew it.

Sam’s averted gaze landed back on Gabriel which his brother took full advantage of by winking suggestively at Sam. It was obvious Gabriel was interested in Sam, the much taller and younger man. That interest unhinged Sam, who was normally empathetic and considerate of others.

“And you,” Dean pointed the tip of his beer bottle in his hand towards Cas. Not a question but a command.

“You should hear this,” Jo intercepted immediately. “I can’t believe it wasn’t vanilla.”

“ _French_ Vanilla would be the best if it was,” Gabe jumped in next. He never got tired of these things did he? Of all things he had to say _French_ too? His brother was playing a dangerous game with the Winchesters who were known for their sex history. “But Cassie here followed in Big Brother’s footsteps,” he grinned mischievously. It only earned him a glare from Sam, who Cas suspected Gabriel was trying to get the attention of in the first place.

Before the talking got any louder Cas stood up. Perhaps a little too abruptly, but the words, “It was not a good experience” had already rolled off his tongue.

“What are you knuckleheads doing?” Bobby Singer grumbled from the glass door inside the house. Everyone greeted the older gentleman solemnly.

“Bobby, what was your first ice cream flavor?” Dean asked him with an expectant smile.

“Vanilla,” Bobby answered without so much as missing a beat. The group broke into laughter as Cas pressed his lips firmly together. He walked away from the group, past Bobby and inside to the kitchen. He busied himself doing nothing at all as he registered Frank and John Winchester working in the living room.

Cas opened the fridge and yanked out the first tub of ice cream he had stored inside. _French Vanilla_. How funny.

He opened the container and began eating vigorously. Dean walked in, setting his beer on the kitchen counter before approaching him.

“What’s eating you?” Dean asked.

“ _I’m_ eating ice cream,” he answered back instead.

“Oookay, Cas,” Dean sauntered to where Cas was attacking the ice cream. A smile lit his face when he saw the label on the ice cream container, but said nothing. Cas just glared at him. “What’s up?”

Instead Cas stopped eating and stood proudly. He asked, “What was your ice cream flavor?”

Dean smiled. That proud smile of his he always had just standing over the ledge of smug.

The patting of callused palms and fingers tapped his cheeks. Cas blinked, realizing it was Dean’s hand. Hands he’d forgotten that worked hard and fought even harder.

“You know it isn’t ice cream Cas,” Dean said with his smile.

“I know that but-”

“It’ll just be sticky liquid if it was ice cream,” Dean grinned even wider. Cas glared at him. He was implying it was hot and wild. “But I guess I’ll say Strawberries and Cream.”

For a moment Cas drew the silence. He was confused by Dean’s wordplay. He squinted his eyes as if hoping to find a hidden answer in Dean’s face that way. Until he finally gave up and asked, “Why?”

A sigh escaped Dean this time. He drew a little closer. “Do I really have to explain, Cas?” He breathed into Cas’ personal space. A shiver fought its way up and then down his spine again.

“Uh, Dean.” Cas turned rigid. He remembered when they first met Cas had been the socially awkward one of the two. He’d always been reminded by the uncomfortable Agent Dean Winchester about personal space. Now it was Cas’ turn. “Personal space.”

Dean’s laugh transformed into a slow drawl-like chuckle. An arm snaked around Castiel’s waist, pulling him so close to Dean that their hipbones were literally rubbing against each other. Castiel felt so pressed he could barely bring himself to breathe in fear of what might happen.

“ _French_ Vanilla,” Dean said softly as his other hand trailed against Castiel’s lips. Slowly but yet swiftly, in a blink of an eye Dean’s lips were crushed against Castiel’s. Not in a soft, gentle manner either. Dean kissed him possessively, passionately, and he demanded the same of Castiel that he could not give.

The moment Dean’s tongue touched his Castiel froze for the barest second. Feeling Dean’s tongue run over the roof of his mouth with a flick and then slowly slid against it the way it came. Cas wiggled, hoping to break Dean’s stronger hold but it only resulted in making his erection known. Dean’s other hand dropped from Castiel’s jaw where it held him securely down to his groin as Dean’s tongue delved in and out of his mouth.

Dean pulled away with a slow release, as though he couldn’t bear to part as much as Cas wanted to be certain Dean wasn’t playing with his heart. Cas was ready to fall, his knee caps completely turned to jelly, if he weren’t already pressed so closely into Dean’s arms.

“It’s good,” Dean smiled at Cas, his green eyes heated and twinkling like emerald. “Not my taste though— _French Vanilla,_ I mean.”

It was almost like Dean was stargazing, holding his breath, loving everything he looked upon. Something Cas didn’t dear to believe had anything to do with him.

Cas tried to shift, feeling Dean’s slow ministration at his groin. Dean never looked away from him, and Cas looked away as he felt the heated flush on his face brightening. Dean was touching him. Dean kissed him. Was this a dream? It had to be.

“So what did _‘ice cream’_ mean exactly?” Dean asked with that wicked grin as Cas bunched up his shoulders. Castiel leaned into him, unable to stand erect on his own the way Dean was massaging his front _and_ backside. Was the temperate warmer, or was it just him?

When Cas didn’t answer Dean whispered into Cas’ ear, “When I said we should hangout today, I meant the two of us.” Cas turned rigid against Dean’s hard muscled body. All naturally obtained, without exercising or working out. It was just part of the job that he gained this toned body that ignited Castiel’s loins. Jimmy, his twin, used to laugh at Cas for his shyness in being gay. Said he needed to be more assertive and attentive. He’d said the same thing yesterday before leaving when Cas had gotten the call from Dean about today.

When Dean had called he’d balked at the idea of being alone with Dean. He wasn’t used to anyone but his family in his house and for the most part most of them respected his privacy. Most. Except Gabriel and Raphael.

“Winchester, I…” Cas started but he didn’t really know what to say. Or how to get out of the situation. He literally lost his breath when Dean’s hand snaked into his unbelted jeans and grabbed his erection, skin touching skin.

A hot breath rasped into his ear, “It’s Dean, Cas.”

Then Castiel found himself hoisted up to straddle Dean’s hips. He held on tight, and was frighteningly surprised. No one except his father had ever held him up against their body before, and the last time his father had held him up Castiel was seven years old. He barely remembered much about his long ago absentee father.

Cas nodded, hiding his face against Dean’s shoulder.

It didn’t seem like Dean to do this kind of thing where anyone can just see. He’d heard the female workers talk in the lounge area before, whispering about their time with Dean. Whether it was on a date or in bed. They were always enthusiastically speaking on how he was uninhibited, animalistic, hell even gentle and caressing depending on the mood. Not once have anyone said anything about how Dean came on to someone, and Castiel had never thought it would progress so quickly so easily in his kitchen.

“Come on you big baby,” Dean was saying and Castiel realized Dean was already headed up the stairs. He popped up his head, wondering how Dean avoided Frank and John who were in full view of the stairs from where they sat. Only to groan and hide his embarrassment in Dean’s shoulder when John caught his gaze and glanced back at his papers. Frank’s back was to the stairs, going on about some computer thing or other Cas didn’t understand.

“They’ll all jump on the case later when they’re full. They’ll be too busy to come bother us,” Dean commented as they walked to the far end of the hallway to Castiel’s room. His room which no one but him has ever stepped foot in. And he only realized what Dean might notice there. Dean was always rudely snooping through things as an agent.

“The guest bedroom,” Cas pointed to his right. Dean looked up at him where Castiel held his back straight instead of hunched into Dean’s shoulders. “If you want to… um…” Castiel searched for the word. “If you want to fuck me we’re doing it in there,” he said.

The look that Dean gave back to him was nothing Cas expected. He’d expected shock, or that cool demeanor Dean used when he dealt with his one-night liaisons. Instead it was the type of hardcore glare he gave to convicted criminals he believed should be on deathrow. The kind of look he had, and as Cas felt, where his muscles tightened and corded as if stressing his masculinity to simply outdo the other’s consideration of even pissing him off.

“W-wait, Dean!” Cas stumbled with his words as Dean charged into Cas’ master bedroom and threw Cas and himself on the four-poster bed. Cas groaned as Dean’s entire weight fell against his slightly smaller size. It was mostly Dean’s noticeable bulge rubbing against his own really.

 

Dean attacked Cas’s mouth hungrily. He’d waited months to come back and call Castiel up. _Years_ if one considered the time Dean took to hide his attraction to the man. His father easily noticed his usually very alpha-male son who loved women was oddly concerned for Castiel, the formering CIA agent who’d been joined their department over the years. John Winchester didn’t seem to care much, as long as Dean did his job it didn’t matter. He’d told Dean so when they both thought things were going downhill some time ago with Sammy.

He wrestled with Cas’ shaking hands and finally pulled off the man’s jeans. Normally something Dean would have reveled seeing him in, since he was usually always in his unfitted suit and trench coat. Cas was fumbling with words again when Dean tossed the jeans over his shoulder, effectively knocking the door behind them closed as well. He smiled down at Cas as he straddled the man’s hips.

Slowly he unzipped his jeans. Noting that Castiel stopped panicking just for a moment to breathe heavily as he watched Dean’s slow movement.

He’d known for a while now that Castiel was unused to going after men…or women, but having asked Jimmy, he knew Castiel came out a long time now. In high school in fact, which forced the religious Jimmy and Castiel to have a break in their brotherhood until more recent years.

Cas probably didn’t realize how erotic he looked, or of the hunger in his eyes while he watched Dean shimmy down his jeans. He stopped, seeing how Cas started to panic again realizing he’d been caught watching. He smiled, bent over and reached for Cas’s jaw line again.

Dean stretched on top of the older but smaller man and kissed him hard, sinking his tongue into Cas’ mouth. Only to remember the purpose of angrily throwing Cas on the bed when Cas shifted under him.

He sat up again, ripping open Cas’ plaid shirt and pulling off the t-shirt underneath. The only piece of clothing left on Cas was his boxer briefs. Dean felt a smirk pulling at his lips. He remembered a few months back before he’d gone on his assignment with his brother, how they’d argued with some of the other guys in the force about boxers and briefs. Some of the women had asked which kind of underwear the men prefer to wear: boxers or briefs. Sam and he just had to give one look at each other and had answered “boxer briefs” in union, causing an uproar of laughter. He recalled Cas refusing to answer and had been his socially awkward self until everyone left the room.

Cas’ hand came over his groin, and his face flushed when Dean looked up at him again. “Um…”

Cas was probably trying to say something but still couldn’t find the words.

He waited patiently.

“I didn’t want to do it in here,” Cas mumbled as he looked away from Dean. He looked nothing like the cold agent he normally was. Or the socially awkward animal Dean knew him to be. Just a very nervous, inexperienced man whose first porno had been about a pizza deliveryman and a slutty babysitter in the motel room with him and Sam. Perhaps his monk-likeliness was due to Jimmy, but it was cute. “I… I didn’t want you to see…”

Anger suddenly coursed through his veins again. “What?” Dean loomed over him, pressing his body and his face closely to Cas but not touching. It allowed Cas to feel his presence lingering and heightened his awareness of Dean. The method worked. Cas’s entire body shuddered with anticipation.

“Am I just a casual fuck for you, Cas? You one of those people who’ll look at someone for years and after you fuck them you’re done?” Dean snarled. He’d chosen to ignore Cas’ earlier words but now it seemed almost unavoidable. Cas looked nothing like the strong character that wore the slightly bigger blue suit and trench coat, who sometimes seemed more childlike than his years and yet acted with the most levelheadedness Dean’s ever known on any person who has seen half the stuff they’d seen.

“I…” Cas said weakly but hitched his breath and stopped when Dean pressed his palm to Castiel’s hardening cock straining in his boxer briefs. “I don’t want…” Castiel shook his head, staring to his left and refusing to look at Dean.

“You…” Dean stopped himself short of setting out a set of curses. He grabbed Castiel’s jaw, tightening his grip until Cas grasped from the pain and gave the man a punishing kiss. The punishment he deserved. All of Dean’s passions and desires he’s held in for the last few months since he’d been away chasing Crowley. If he was going to be rejected Cas should have said something sooner downstairs, instead of making Dean feel so triumphant in being accepted.

The memory that Crowley had kissed Castiel before flashed back into Dean’s memory. The fact that he didn’t witness it, but that Crowley mentioned it so casually and Cas actually blushed over it further fueled Dean’s answer. Cas was his. No one had the right to these sweet lips, his cock or his ass but Dean.

He pulled away, his hand in Cas’ short hair. He gripped his fist tightly and pulled Cas’ head back by his hair, seeing the way Cas gasped, his throat fully vulnerable and exposed. Cas’ eyes looked gazed, almost wet, but Dean told himself it was just his hope. Like earlier when he’d jumped the gun and hadn’t even waited for a proper response. He was just assuming that if the man was going to cry at all, that it’ll be for Dean.

“So Crowley was your first flavor?” Dean looked into his blue eyes. Eyes that loved the world, that loved the people so much each time Dean looked into them it was looking into the stars and galaxies.

Cas’ expression scrunched up. “I’ve never done anything with Crowley.”

“You two weren’t lovers?”

“No. He’s a known criminal. I would never… not with him,” Cas’ voice deepened further, angrier, taking that authority which usually made Dean hot all over. Especially down there.

“But you’ve kissed.”

Cas sat up on his elbows. He held his chin out in that proud way he sometimes does. Like he was blueblood. “That was an embarrassment. Something I’ll rather not relive.”

Dean let out a breath of relief. So there was nothing there.

“Then who?” he asked, losing that bit of confidence. “Who was your Everything-”

“-You mean but the ice cream?” Cas asked. Dean fought not to smile his relief. It couldn’t be what he was wishing. It wasn’t what he wanted it to be. He was just spinning circumstances like how his investigative blood wished him to do, treating the mystery of Castiel’s first like a case.

Dean frowned down at Cas, schooling his expectant expression. Cas continued, “Why do you care? It wasn’t a good experience, Dean. I don’t want to think about it. Any of it.”

“So ice cream meant sex,” Dean said, nudging at Castiel’s groin with his own a little. Cas perked up, trying to shift a little but Dean kept the man’s legs separated and against his hips. He smiled, knowing about a good fuck and the need of those purely looking for that release. He’d never thought Cas to be one cut of the same cloth as him though. And that bothered him. “Didn’t think you were so into fucking and forgetting.” He circled his thrust this time, and the dampness of Cas’ boxer briefs was evidence to Cas’ undeniable arousal.

There was silence as Cas gazed away to somewhere else in the room. Always to Cas’ left, as if something was comforting in the drawers. Dean had taken note of the room quickly earlier, there weren’t any pictures or anything memorial. Whatever kept Cas staring to the side just annoyed Dean more.

He pulled away, starting to inch back from the middle of the bed towards the edge. This seemed to snap Cas back into attention. A mixture of shock and something else in his blue gaze.

Then he noticed for the first time as he stood by the edge of the bed, with his jeans rolled down his hips, that Cas was scared. His left hand clutched to the sheets of the four-poster bed by his head, his right fisted just above his heart by his collarbone. His legs which were spread apart by Dean were trembling and slowly closing. Cas’ lips were pressed together so tightly now that his lips were almost white.

Cas turned his head away. The sudden movement forced Dean to climb back on the bed. Just as he came to Cas, the man turned over and hid his face into the bed. One arm thrown over his head as if to shield himself from Dean.

The blow of realization hit Dean so hard he wanted to break down. Instead he curled himself over Cas, spooning the man, trying to sooth him with the circles he rubbed in his back. He whispered apologies to Cas but all that did was stopped the shuddering. Cas would not look at him. For such a hardcore interrogator he didn’t think Cas could be so fragile too.

“Look at me, Cas,” he pleaded softly. “Please.” He rubbed his thumb just over the jaw line that was still exposed. Cas froze, didn’t breathe or move. “Please,” he urged as he set his head to the cradle between Cas’ neck and shoulder.

When Cas didn’t response he started to lightly kiss on the flesh in front of him. He sucked on it, running his tongue over the area, feeling the way Cas tensed against him. Slowly his sweet little angel with the blue eyes that held the galaxies and stars began to relax in his embrace and his soft kisses. His skin heated under Dean’s lips, and Dean secretly reveled in his work.

He turned Cas’ pacified body towards him, lying him on his back. He captured Cas’ chin between his thumb and forefinger, staring again into those beautiful, luminous blue eyes. Eyes that held the last bit of tears in them. Dean kissed those eyes, then Cas’ cheeks and grinned to himself when he was grazed by Cas’ stubble.

He moved his lips to Cas’ ear. “I love you, Castiel Novak.”

Cas frowned as he turned his head to Dean. “But you don’t...” He paused. “I’m not…” He paused again and whispered, “…your flavor.”

Dean smiled, then chuckled. He brushed his fingers across Cas’ hair. “If ice cream stands for what I think it means, I don’t think anything can match up to the Impala,” he grinned, kissing the man’s jaw. The Impala had been there since he was born, he’d known it all his life.

Cas looked perplexed and frowned deeper, looking like the Castiel he’d met all those years ago. The slight build of a man who could build his own furniture, loved his religious twin brother Jimmy and loved the people and citizens of his country—but in all entirety, the world.

Cas turned to him finally, allowing Dean to keep him in his arms. Snuggling close. “So the Impala was your Strawberries and Cream.” Cas looked into Dean’s eyes, as if he was searching for the answer to the question he didn’t ask. His hands were tentatively against Dean’s abs and his waist. As if he was ready to pull them inward in case he was scorched by fire.

Dean frowned, remembering the story Gabriel recounted about the fire mishap from Castiel’s youth. Their cousin Balthazar was playing with fire and oil, and had trapped Castiel in a circle of fire for hours. Balthazar was years older than the nine-year-old Cas too. Cas didn’t do well too close to high flames since then. The memory made Dean want to keep the man in the safety of his arms even more, which was odd. Dean didn’t normally feel like he wanted to keep someone safe, it was his job and it had become almost second nature. This feeling was different, like it was innate and impossible to override. He would keep Castiel safe.

“Dean, I have to confess,” Cas said innocently. His gazed looked away from Dean’s. Dean just waited, allowing himself to be patient. “I’ve kept everything.”

“What?” Dean was confused. He had no idea where the conversation was going suddenly.

“Sam said it is okay to cherish the things which is related to someone we truly love. Sam keeps Jessica’s pictures, and he still has the last movie stub they went to watch together.” Castiel spoke swiftly, bursting a load of information which Dean was slowly comprehending now. He smiled, now knowing what was inside the drawer and why Cas had not wanted them to have their first time in the room. After all, Dean would have totally snooped around and found the evidence.

“I’ve kept every movie stub, the receipts when you’ve treated me, I printed out the picture you sent me to use for my smartphone—and I still don’t know how to use those apps, I’m sorry. I have the shirt you bled on and told me to throw away, the necklace you tossed out that Sam gave you—and I think you should take it back and keep it. Also-”

He took Cas’ hands and secured them to his lips, catching Cas by surprise. The other he secured at his hips. Encouraging his blue-eyed man to hold him tightly and to calm down.

“Cas,” he breathed against Castiel’s fingers. Cas puffed a sigh, almost pouting it seemed when he was interrupted. Dean couldn’t think but that his little socially awkward baby in a trench coat was the cutest, sexiest man alive. “I love you, and the Impala’s my baby and she is my first love.” Cas just glanced away. “But you are the cream in my Strawberries and Cream. I know you were made for me. So don’t let go.” Maybe that was a little too wishy-washy with the romance.

Cas turned back and gave him a side smile, as if he finally understood. “I’ll be the ice cream.”

Dean leaned in to kiss him. “Yes. I want you to melt under me.” He linked their fingers together, pressed them into the bed as he climbed on top of Cas.

“Then you’ll be my everything,” Cas smiled up at him. A twinkle in his blue eyes filled with stars.

“Everything but the ice cream,” Dean laughed. Because Cas was the ice cream. The one who loved so strongly, passionately and innocently. He had everything Dean had ever given him, things they’ve done together and even the things he knew Dean regretted throwing away or losing. Dean loved him, and he would be everything, but he was so jaded he couldn’t love Cas in the same way. Still, if he had Cas he thought maybe he could. Maybe he did deserve, just a little bit, of that innocent young love that stayed blazing in his older lover.

“Dean!” Sam’s voice boomed just before the door flung open. They moved away and stared up at Sammy. His younger but taller brother’s plaid shirt had been ripped open, his muscle shirt underneath rolled up to reveal his abs. His belt buckle was missing and his jeans were unbutton. What in the world?

“Sorry,” Sam said when he realized what he’d just done. Dammit Sammy, Dean cursed in his head and sent the message to his brother via telepathy—if that were possible. “But…” he started, and didn’t finish as he pointed behind him. “Gabriel he…”

“Everything but the…” Cas said and laughed. Dean looked to the older man until it dawned on him. He just smiled. Next time he was going to get them alone so there wouldn’t be any buts.


End file.
